OPERA NEWS - The Cunning Little Vixen The Cunning Little Vixen Animal magnetism: Vuong and Bullock in Juilliard's Vixen © Nan Melville 2013 The recent Juilliard production of Janáček's ravishing opera The Cunning Little Vixen (seen Apr. 28) didn't try to compete with the elaborate woodland costumes and pastoral backdrops featured in the New York Philharmonic's concert staging of the same work just two years ago, across the street at Avery Fisher Hall. Juilliard's version, under the direction of Emma Griffin, took place entirely inside one large room of a sleek contemporary house (designed by Laura Jellinek), with splotches of color seen through the windows indicating the changing of the seasons. The denizens of the forest were clearly exuberant young people, not animals, playing games; they wore only animal ears, or, in some cases, masks on the backs of their heads. Thus freed from the constraints of depicting wildlife, the cast was liberated to emphasize the humanistic qualities of the relationships in Janáček's opera (the composer wrote his own libretto), as well as his resonant themes of unity and renewal.

Also helpful in emphasizing this realism was the English translation, by Yveta Synek Graff (a pioneer in bringing Czech opera to English-speaking audiences) and Robert T. Jones. Janáček famously tried to capture the distinctive contours and rhythms of the Czech language in his music, making credible singing translations even harder to create than usual, but these English phrases seemed perfectly natural and well set. This authentic quality was enhanced by generally excellent diction from the exceptionally talented student cast. Julia Bullock, as Sharp-Ears, the titular vixen, led the way in terms of clarity of delivery and beauty of sound. Her broad range of expression allowed her to be impetuous and demonstrative in her early scenes, then appealingly self-dramatizing later when relating the story of her life to the Fox. In this beautiful courtship scene, Bullock's sound was especially opulent and glorious in her upper register. Later, when she sang "Can it be that I am beautiful?" her voice and face both lit up vibrantly. Her bold, seemingly invulnerable defiance of Harasta, the menacing poacher, was such that her death by gunfire came as a complete shock, even to those who already knew the plot.

Soprano Karen Vuong, as the Fox, deployed a slightly weightier voice than Bullock's but sang with similar beauty of tone, if slightly less precise consonants. Aubrey Allicock, as the Forester who attempts to domesticate the Vixen, was a welcome presence both vocally and dramatically. The steel-edged confidence of his bass-baritone was perfect for delivering the message of rejuvenation in the Forester's big aria near the end. Martin Bakari was vocally charismatic as the Schoolmaster, who mistakes the Vixen for Terynka, the local girl he is in love with (and who is engaged to Harasta); the same could be said for Önay Köse as the Priest, whose booming baritone gave way to tenderness when he sang of a lost childhood love. As Harasta, John Brancy brought to bear a strong baritone and a bad-boy swagger, projecting his sound effortlessly even in a quiet, reflective section. Mezzo Laura Mixter sang with appealing immediacy as the Poacher's captive dog.

The decidedly non-feminst chorus of Hens, in blonde wigs and white nightgowns, proved amusingly uninterested in being liberated from subjugation by the Rooster (a domineering Raquel Gonzáles), much to the progressive-minded Vixen's annoyance. Anne Manson led the Juilliard Orchestra with firm, decisive command. The strings sounded a tad scrappy at the start, but they achieved much better integration of sound as the afternoon progressed. Jeanne Slater provided the joyful choreography, which verged on the balletic during the Act I dream sequence. Some adorable young members of the Juilliard Pre-College Division struck a very moving tableau after the death of Sharp-Ears, more wonderstruck at the falling snow than grief-ridden over their mother's demise. This, as much as anything, crystallized Janáček's case for the inexorability of the circle of life. And we didn't even need to be outside. Send feedback to OPERA NEWS .

Review: ‘The Cunning Little Vixen’ by Leoš Janáček at West Edge Opera (****) – TheatreStorm by Christine Okon Nikola Printz and Amy Foote in “The Cunning Little Vixen.” Photo credit: Corey Weaver. The world of the forest and the world of man meet common ground amidst the gravel and graffiti of Oakland’s abandoned 16th Street train station with West Edge Opera’s innovative production of Leoš Janáček’s opera “The Cunning Little Vixen.” Based on a 1920’s Czech comic strip, “The Cunning Little Vixen” follows the adventures of “Sharp Ears,” a scrappy and savvy red fox who manages to escape capture, survive by her wiles, and live her life to the fullest until it is ended by a greedy poacher. “The Cunning Little Vixen” begins and ends in a forest full of creatures of all sorts—badger, owl, woodpecker, dragonfly, frog, mosquito and more—each with their own purpose and agenda.

The Piedmont children’s chorus adds special charm to these little animals of the forest as they sing and dance to Janacek’s lilting and sometimes discordant tunes, like distant carnival waltzes in an odd dream. Outside of the forest is the land of Man, full of bricks and guns and boring routine. We meet the young and free Vixen (Soprano Amy Foote, projecting coyness and resolve) as she explores her world with awe and curiosity until she is captured by the Forester (bass-baritone Philip Skinner) who, typical of Man, assumes he is entitled to unfettered possession. What he really wants is to taste the freedom and joy the vixen exudes, something he has nearly forgotten. Foote and Skinner convey plaintive longing and apprehension, each in their own range. We follow the vixen from young kit to mother. We see her fend for herself, speak her mind (there is a hilarious scene where she urges the docile chickens to rise up against the rooster oppressor), carve out her space, and get what she needs.

She falls in love with a handsome Gold Fox (seductively played by Mezzo Soprano Nikola Printz), and, despite the peasant mentality forest gossip, they go on to have countless kits of their own. Along with the Forester, the schoolmaster (Joseph Meyers) and preacher (Nikolas Nackley) bemoan opportunities missed, loves lost, and chances not taken as they drink to excess and stumble home in the dark forest where they mistake a glimpse of the vixen for a lost love. But even when the greedy and slovenly poacher Harasta (Carl King) shoots the vixen so he can give his fiancé “new red muffs” from the fur, he does not end her spirit. In the last scene, the Forester seeks to nap in the forest and imagines he sees the Vixen but finds out it is her daughter. He meets a frog who turns out to be the great grandson of the frog he met in Act I. He realizes with delight that things have come full circle, that if he cannot control the world he may as well exult in it.

Staging “The Cunning Little Vixen,” especially on such a tight stage, poses a challenge with choreography and blocking, resulting in some overcrowding. But the innovative lighting and projection that created a full moon and the illusion of the Sharp Ears and her Fox lover graffiti-tagging a sunflower and a heart was a fun nod to the inner urban canvas. The costumes were delightful but not always identifiable as to the creatures they reflect, so it is helpful to review the story of the opera before seeing this play. “The Cunning Little Vixen” has some of the loveliest and most charming music ever composed, blending strains of Moravian melodies with beautiful forest interludes. Janacek is celebrating his love of the Czech spirit, country and countryside, infusing the score with a sense of wonder, beauty, and defiance that we know will extend decades later. The orchestra, led by Jonathan Kuhner, was strong, sometimes stronger than the singers. This ambitious production of “The Cunning Little Vixen” tries very hard to overcome the limitations of physical space.

Audience members will need patience with the rows of metal folding chairs arranged at the same level which can be a problem if the guy in front of you is sporting a big man-bun. Nevertheless, if you’re up for the journey, you may want to accept West Edge Opera’s invitation to their unique approach to opera. “The Cunning Little Vixen” continues at West Edge Opera through August 13, 2016. For further information, click here . _____________________________ Janacek's 'The Cunning Little Vixen' : NPR Janacek's 'The Cunning Little Vixen' Janacek's 'The Cunning Little Vixen' From Houston Grand Opera Houston Grand Opera on World of Opera -- The Cunning Little Vixen Audio is no longer available November 30, 200712:00 PM ET WHO'S WHO? Maria Markina .... Lapak the Dog Liam Bonner ....... Harasta Houston Grand Opera Orchestra and Chorus Patrick Summers, conductor In Janacek's The Cunning Little Vixen, from Houston, Lisa Saffer (right) plays the title role, with Maria Markina as Lapak the Dog.

Andrew Cloud/Houston Grand Opera hide caption toggle caption Andrew Cloud/Houston Grand Opera When operas first appeared about 400 years ago, they tended to be based on great stories of the Western tradition — mythological tales and historical legends. The first great opera ever composed, Monteverdi's Orfeo, is a good example. It's based on the legend of Orpheus, the musician and poet who journeys to the underworld to bring back his dead wife, Eurydice. These days, new operas aren't always so traditional; it seems we've come a long way since Monteverdi. A Russian composer, Vitali Okorokov, has written an opera called Monica Lewinsky, featuring an aria — sung by a CIA director — called, "I did not invite you, Monica, for a cocktail." Then there was a recent opera in London by composer Richard Thomas, called Jerry Springer: The Opera. It may sound preposterous, but it earned 8 nominations for the Laurence Olivier Awards, the top theater accolades in London. Still, today's opera composers aren't the first to begin thinking outside the box.

Early in the last century, Leos Janacek created brilliant operas out of what, on the surface, appeared to be equally loopy ideas. In 1920, he set part of one opera on the moon. The odd creatures living there turn out to be fussy art aficionados. Article continues after sponsorship A few years later, Janacek turned to another offbeat source for operatic inspiration — the comics. He turned a serial comic strip from a local newspaper into The Cunning Little Vixen, one of Janacek's most touching and inventive operas. The "Vixen" is a female fox — not a cinematic sexpot or a soap opera star — and Janacek's score tells an ingenius tale, populated by forest and barnyard animals, that has become one of the 20th century's most popular musical dramas. On World of Opera, host Lisa Simeone presents a production of The Cunning Little Vixen from Houston Grand Opera, sung in English and starring Lisa Saffer in the sharp-eared, title role.

Web Resources Long Beach Opera - The Cunning Little Vixen Long Beach Opera The Cunning Little Vixen By Leoš Janá?ek Leoš Janácek composed a Czech “Midsummer Night’s Dream” by turning a serial comic strip from a local newspaper into one of his most touching and inventive operas. The ingenious story tells the adventures of Vixen Sharp-Ears set in a world populated by humans as well as forest and barnyard animals. Janácek’s opera is a masterful amalgam of operatic dialogue, songs, chorus, wordless singing, ballet, mime, and orchestral interludes. He combines the mythic, the tragic and the comic, creating a philosophical reflection on the cycle of life and death. It is one of the 20th century’s most imaginative excursions into a fantasy. Meet the cast of creatures of "The Cunning Little Vixen". Príhody Lišky Bystroušky - The Cunning Little Vixen "My very own Vixen Bystrouska, where did you take your lament from, when the old forester tied you to the kennel? You, motif of the sharp teeth, where have you seen yourself before?

You chicks and you, cockerel, not suspecting the Vixen's schemes, where did you hatch before you pit-a-patted on stage? There, in my yard. There were three in the morning, and before the evening nine. The white one was the wild one among you. The hen called you vigilantly. "KO Krrrrrrrrrr!" she taught you to peck, to drink, to scratch. Your whole life, chicks - even the spiritual life, the envy, the greed - ran before my eyes. (Leoš Janá?ek) According to the Janá?ek's servant for fourty-four years, Marie Stejskalová, it was her laughing at the newspaper cartoons of the adventures of Vixen Sharp-Ears that drew her master to the subject of P?íhody Lišky Bystroušky, a story that appeared in a local newspaper in 1920.

The Brno popular newspaper Lidové noviny had commissioned Rudolf T?snohlídek to write a novel to be serialised which was to be based around a series of drawings by Stanislav Lolek telling the tale of the adventures of Vixen Sharp-Ears." T?snohlídek’s novel became the basis for the libretto. Janá?ek moves away from pure traditionalism by pioneering a fantastic musical language for the forest, based on his ‘notebook’ of animal sounds and a bitter sweet lyricism for the Vixen and the Fox. These stylistic innovations are married with a moving pantheistic close where the Forester realises, in one of Janá?ek’s most tender passages that nature has a cyclical basis, which goes much beyond the traditional mirrors of the fairy-tale opera genre, such as found in Dvo?ák’s Rusalka. It has, unsurprisingly received a large number of performances across the world. Synopsis Act I It all begins on a sunny, summer afternoon in the woods. The Forester is taking a nap. Around him, flora and fauna are in full swing.

Crickets waltz, dragonflies buzz and a frog leaps after a mosquito, landing on the Forester's nose. He wakes to find a little fox cub, and takes her back home as a pet for the kids. In the Forester's yard, several months later, the fox cub has become a mature, and cunning, vixen. She discusses love with Lapak the dog. The Vixen brushes off the dog's advances, and nips at the heels of the Forester's two children, Frantík and Pepík. The Forester ties the Vixen up and, as night falls, she dreams that she's transformed into a young girl. At dawn, Lapak and the Rooster warn the Vixen not to be such an upstart. "You shouldn't have licked the dishes," the dog advises. The Vixen has advice of her own for the submissive hens in the barnyard. She says, "Friends, sisters, abolish the old order. Create a new world where you'll get your fair share." The selfish Rooster takes offense.

A squabble breaks out, and the Vixen — true to her nature as a fox in the henhouse — begins killing the hens. The Forester and his wife put a stop to the commotion, but the Vixen bites through her leash, knocks over the Forester and escapes back to the woods. Act II The scene switches to a local Inn, where the Forester and the Schoolmaster are at the bar playing cards, joined by the local Priest. The Forester sings a song about the passing of time and the men gently rib each other, commenting on events in their lives. Night falls, and a short interlude brings us to a forest path. The Vixen observes the tipsy Schoolmaster making his way home and mistaking a sunflower for a girlfriend. The Priest comes along, too. His mind wanders back to a girl he once knew. All are startled by a shotgun blast. It's the Forester, trying to shoot the Vixen. The scene changes again, to the door of the Vixen's burrow. She hears rustling nearby. It's a male fox — and handsome, too. By the moonlight she tells him her life story.

After a few awkward moments the two fall in love, and retreat inside the burrow. From above, an owl and a blue jay comment on the situation. Soon the two foxes emerge and announce their impending marriage, to be administered by the Woodpecker, and they celebrate with a rambunctious dance. Act III Time has passed and now the Vixen has a family. The scene is a clearing in the forest. Harasta, the poultry dealer, sings a folk song. He notices a dead rabbit beside the trail. So does the Forester, who also spies part of a fox tail nearby. Thinking it must belong to the Vixen, he sets a trap and they both leave. The Vixen, with her husband and their family of little cubs, sees the trap for what it is. When Harasta walks by with his bag full of poultry, the Vixen senses an opportunity. She feigns an injury. When Harasta goes for his gun, she lures him into the forest where he trips, falling flat on his nose. Quickly, the foxes dig into Harasta's poultry bag. But before they finish he returns with his gun, and fires.

They all scatter, except for one — the Vixen, who lies dying. The scene changes back to the local Inn, where the mood is melancholy. The Schoolmaster is sad to hear that the woman he fancies has married someone else. The Forester feels old age coming on. They both miss their friend the Priest, who has moved away. The final scene contains some of Janacek's most passionately lyrical music. The Forester sets out for home, walking through the woods. A sweet memory comes back to him — of gathering wild mushrooms with his wife, as a young couple in love. "Is it real or a fairy tale?" he asks himself. At peace with his beloved woods and with himself, he lies down for a nap and the scene mirrors the very opening of the opera. Animals hover around him. He dreams about the Vixen, but as he reaches out to grab her he finds only a frog, the grandson of the frog that landed on his face in Act One. The opera ends as the Forester quietly lets his gun slip to the ground.

The Returning Little Vixen When writing P?íhody lišky bystroušky (or ‘The Cunning Little Vixen’, as it has come to be called), Leoš Janá?ek was not entirely sure what to call his new work, an ‘opera’, a ‘fable’ or perhaps, most aptly, an ‘opera idyll’. There is a balance in the piece between realism (the various animals on stage and the stories of how Janá?ek notated their real-life counterparts’ noises and calls) and symbolism (the dual casting of animals and humans, the Forester’s final numinous epiphany). Of all Janá?ek’s operas, this one - his seventh - is perhaps most open to visual interpretation, but the composer himself was undecided of how his seventh opera should be staged. It is through the design that the audience is made aware that the opera is not just a simple tale about forest animals, but about the wider cycle of nature. A realistic mise en scène shows the gap between the animals and humans, where a less literal interpretation joins the two. It is not entirely clear whether Janá?ek wanted the two worlds linked.

He encouraged the doubling of various parts, but this may have been partly a cost-effective decision for small or provincial theatres, such as in Janá?ek’s home-town of Brno. He wrote after the first performance of The Vixen in Mainz that ‘only a hint should surface of the sameness of our cycle and that of animal life. That is enough – it is true that for most this symbolism is too little’. Whatever the associations, two styles of production are associated with The Vixen, one realistic and one more symbolic. Composed in Brno and at Janá?ek’s retreat in Hukvaldy without hitch or revision, the opera was premiered in Brno on November 6, 1924, as recollected by his maid. The master took great pleasure from the Brno première of The Vixen. He would come back from rehearsals laughing at how the singers were learning to crawl on all fours. The opera chief Neumann, the producer Zítek, and the painter Milén, who designed the sets, made such beautiful work out of The Vixen, that it surprised even the master.

(Janá?ek’s housekeeper) Indeed ‘the master’ had very few reservations about the production, only that some of the roles were cast as adults, where children would have been more fitting. Milén’s designs for the Brno premiere tended towards a more ‘arty’ style, with most famously a cubist dachshund. Vixen Sharp-Ears was a foxified human, wearing a feather boa and a hat with subtle little ears, as depicted in Milén’s illustration on the front page of the original piano score. The Prague premiere (in a new production by Ferdinand Pujman and sets by Josef ?apek) was given on 18 May 1925 as part of that year’s International Society for Contemporary Music (ISCM) festival, leading to the first broadcast of one of Janá?ek’s operas. Not all aspects of the production pleased the composer. The Forester’s Act III aria when his ‘gun simply slips from his hand’ was changed to him convulsing in death throes. Janá?ek and his German translator Max Brod despised the idea.

When Brod made his own translation of the opera for the first foreign premiere in Mainz in 1927, he also placed his own stamp on the opera, ‘to make things clearer and more concentrated’. His German version of the text was more of a free adaptation of Janá?ek’s original rather than a faithful translation. It created links between Harašta’s invisible lover Terynka and the title-role, but on the contrary he abolished many of the doubled parts, breaking down the connections between the animals and humans. Janá?ek never interpolated Brod’s changes into his original, preferring his own intentions. The opera continued to remain dear to the composer throughout his life and the final scene was played at his funeral in 1928, as later recalled by his wife. At ten there was the funeral at the theatre. The opera director František Neumann began to play the final scene from The Cunning Little Vixen where the Forester – sung by Arnold Flögl – reminisces. As soon as I heard the first few bars it was if a strong stream of light shone through that eerie indistinctness which had enveloped me […].

Music was necessary for me to grasp fully what had happened, so that I could feel in its full intensity that Leoš, who had written this work so packed with life, was now lying dead. (Janá?ek's wife) After Janá?ek’s death, before World War II, further performances took place in Brno, in Prague (1937, in a new orchestration by František Škvor and Jaroslav ?ídký) as well as in Liberec, Bratislava, Olomouc, Plze? and Ostrava. For some time however the opera remained only popular in Czechoslovakia, despite notable premieres in Mainz and Zagreb (1939). After the war Walter Felsenstein’s staged the opera at the Komische Oper, Berlin. Conducted by Václav Neumann, the production was seen in Paris in 1957 and Prague in 1962. This more realistic production helped to popularise the little-known piece, bringing it to non-Czech audiences. Contrary to prevailing opinion, however, Felsenstein's production did not establish The Vixen outside Central Europe.

The opera’s first UK performance was at the Sadler’s Wells Opera in 1961, conducted by Colin Davis, in a production by Colin Graham with designs by Barry Kay. Still, The Cunning Little Vixen did not appear with regularity outside Germany and Czechoslovakia until the 1970s. It was performed at the Royal Academy of Music in 1973 and in 1975 Jonathan Miller staged a production at Glyndebourne, which then toured and conducted by a young Simon Rattle. The opera was also staged during the 1970s in Santa Fe (1975), Melbourne (1976), San Francisco (1977), Osaka (1977), Gothenburg (1978) and Tokyo (1978), marking its final established entry into the world-wide repertory. (Gavin Plumley) Leoš Janá?ek Leoš Janá?ek (July 3, 1854 – August 12, 1928) was a Czech composer. He was inspired by Czech, Moravian and all Slavic folk music and on these roots created his original style.

His most celebrated compositions, besides his operas, include the symphonic poem Sinfonietta, the oratorial Glagolitic Mass, the rhapsody Taras Bulba, the instrumental cycle Lachian Dances, and his string quartets. Life And Work Janá?ek was born in Hukvaldy, Moravia, (then part of the Austrian Empire), the son of a schoolmaster. In 1865 he enrolled as a ward of the foundation of the Abbey of St. Thomas in Brno, where he took part in choral singing and occasionally played the organ. In 1874 went to Prague to study music at Prague organ school and made a living as a music teacher. He also conducted various amateur choirs. From October 1879 to February 1880 he studied piano, organ, and composition at the Leipzig Conservatory; among his teachers there were Oskar Paul and Leo Grill. From April to June 1880 he studied composition at the Vienna Conservatory with Franz Krenn. In Leipzig Janá?ek composed Thema con variazioni for piano in B flat subtitled Zdenka’s Variations.

In 1881 he returned to Brno, where he married Zdenka Schulzová. He was appointed director of the organ school, a post he held until 1919, when the organ school became the Brno Conservatory. In 1888 he attended the performance in Prague of Tchaikovsky’s music, and he met the older composer personally. At that time he also started a systematic study and collection of folk songs, dances and music. In 1903 his daughter Olga died. In 1905 Janá?ek attended a demonstration in support of a Czech university in Brno, which inspired his composition of the 1. X. 1905 piano sonata. In 1916 he started a long professional and personal relationship with theatre critic, dramatist and translator Max Brod. When Jen?fa was performed in Prague in 1916 it was a great success, and brought Janá?ek his first acclaim; he was 62.

A year later he met Kamila Stösslová, a young married woman who was an inspiration to him for the remaining years of his life, and with whom he conducted an obsessive correspondence – passionate on his side at least. In 1924, the year of his 70th birthday, the first biography of Janá?ek was published by Max Brod. In 1925 he retired. In 1926 Janá?ek travelled to England, The Netherlands and Germany. In August 1928, along with Kamila Stösslová and her son Otta, he made an excursion to Štramberk. Soon after this Janá?ek became ill, and died in the sanatorium of Dr. L. Klein in Ostrava. He is buried at the Central Cemetery in Brno. Style In 1874 Janá?ek became friends with Antonín Dvo?ák, and began composing in a relatively traditional romantic style, but after his opera Šárka (1881), his style began to change. He made a study of Moravian and Slovak folk music and used elements of it in his own music.

He especially focused on studying and reproducing the rhythm and the pitch contour and inflections of normal Czech speech, which helped in creating the very distinctive vocal melodies in his opera Jen?fa (1904). Going much farther than Modest Mussorgsky and anticipating the later work of Béla Bartók in such styles, Janá?ek made this a distinguishing feature of his vocal writing (Samson 1977). He is best known for the music he wrote from this point to the end of his life. Although many consider his output from this period to mark his mature style, he had been writing in this fashion for quite a number of years but had simply not received wide public acclaim earlier. Much of Janá?ek's work displays great originality and individuality. His work is tonal, although it employs a vastly expanded view of tonality. He also uses unorthodox chord spacings and structures, often making use of modality: "there is no music without key.

Atonality abolishes definite key, and thus tonal modulation....Folksong knows of no atonality." (Hollander 1963) He features accompaniment figures and patterns, with according to Jim Samson, "the on-going movement of his music...similarly achieved by unorthodox means—often a discourse of short, 'unfinished' phrases comprising constant repetitions of short motives which gather momentum in a cumulative manner." (Samson 1977) Legacy Janá?ek belongs to a wave of 20th century composers who were seeking greater realism and greater connection with everyday life, combined with a more all-encompassing use of musical resources. His operas in particular demonstrate the use of "speech"-derived melodic lines, folk and traditional material, and complex modal musical argument. Janá?ek's works are still regularly performed around the world, and are generally considered popular with audiences. He would also inspire later composers in his homeland, as well as music theorists, among them Jaroslav Volek, to place modal development alongside of harmony in importance in music.

Many see the operas Ká?a Kabanová (1921), The Cunning Little Vixen (1924), The Makropulos Affair (1926) and From the House of the Dead (after a novel by Dostoevsky, premiered in 1930, after his death) as his finest works. The conductor Sir Charles Mackerras has become particularly closely associated with them. His chamber music, while not especially voluminous, includes works which are generally considered to be "in the standard repertory" as 20th century classics, particularly his two string quartets: Quartet No. 1, "The Kreutzer Sonata" inspired by the Tolstoy novel, and the Quartet No. 2, "Intimate Letters". At Frankfurt am Main modern music festival in 1926 Ilona Št?pánová-Kurzová performed the world premiere of Janá?ek's Concertino; the Czech premiere took place on February 16 1926 in Brno.

Other well known pieces by Janá?ek include the Sinfonietta, the Glagolitic Mass (the text written in Old Church Slavonic), Lachian Dances, and the rhapsody Taras Bulba. These pieces and the above mentioned four late operas were all written in the last decade of Janá?ek's life. Operas 1894 - Po?átek Románu, "The Beginning of a Romance" 1904 - Její pastorky?a, "Her Stepdaughter", known in English as Jen?fa 1904 - Osud, "Fate" 1920 - Výlety pana Brou?ka, "The Excursions of Mr.

Broucek" 1921 - Ká?a Kabanová 1924 - P?íhody lišky Bystroušky, "The Cunning Little Vixen" 1926 - V?c Makropulos, "The Makropoulos Affair" 1930 - Z mrtvého domu, "From the House of the Dead" Kamila Stösslová - the composer's muse Every year it was customary for Janá?ek to spend a few weeks in the Moravian spa town of Luha?ovice. There he took the waters and strolled through the countryside. His opera Osud is set there, and it recalls much of the cosmopolitan holiday atmosphere of the place in the opening of the first act. In the summer of 1917 Janá?ek was enjoying great popularity, as Jen?fa had finally been heard in Prague. Something more important happened at the spa town however, as it was there that he met Kamila Stösslová, the young wife of an antique dealer from Písek, who greatly influenced the composer’s last period of productivity.

Janá?ek was twice her age yet became utterly infatuated with her. Their relationship is detailed extensively in their correspondence of more than seven hundred letters. Many of Stösslová’s letters were burnt by Janá?ek, but the large majority of his to her survived. Throughout their communications Janá?ek mentioned his work and often told Stösslová that she was the influence for the work at hand. Very shortly after the composer’s visit to Luha?ovice in July 1917 he started composing the setting of the poem’s ‘from the pen of a self-taught man’ printed in the local paper, which told the story of a farm boy’s sexual infatuation with a gypsy girl. These poems became the song cycle Zápisník zmizelého [A Diary of One who disappeared]. Janá?ek wrote to Kamila saying that, ‘regularly in the afternoon a few motifs occur to me for those beautiful little poems about that Gypsy love.

Perhaps a nice little musical romance will come out of it – and a tiny bit of the Luha?ovice mood would be in it.’ ndeed he went on to write further that ‘the black Gypsy girl in my Diary – that was especially you’. As soon as the final revision of the work was completed Janá?ek started work on the next ‘Kamila’ work, his opera Kát'a Kabanová. Again the influence of his love for Stösslová was clearly stated in his series of letters to her on the subject. He wrote that he ‘always placed [her] image on Kát'a Kabanová when [he] was writing the opera’, and when it was finished he told her that ‘you know it’s your work’. In fact throughout their correspondence, and as Janá?ek finished Kát’a and moved onto the Vixen, and Emilia in V?c Makropulos he drew parallels with their characters and that of Kamila.

But as John Tyrrell writes in his introduction to the English edition of the letters that although they are ‘the most important source for the understanding of Janá?ek’s emotional and creative life in the last twelve years’, apart from their musicological significance ‘they contain a great love story’. Their story was not always happy. As with Janá?ek’s obsession with Kamila Urválková and his affair with Gabriela Horvátová (the Kostelni?ka for the Prague premiere of Jen?fa) there were recriminations at home, and his dealings with his wife became increasingly strained. The relationship with Stösslová was never consummated however, and sometimes her lack of ability in replying to the composer’s letters caused him great upset. That apart, she was the woman who influenced the composer more than anyone or anything else. More often than not the warmth that he felt towards her found its way into the amazingly humanitarian works of his last period of composition. Throughout his life of domestic fireworks we see there are two things which influenced him profoundly, over and over again: a sense of place, and a sense of those whom he loved and who loved him.

The impact of Kamila Stösslová cannot be emphasised enough when considering the great operas of his maturity. For a man whose first main opera was heard in his 50th year, the achievement of Leoš Janá?ek is immense and emotionally startling. PERFORMANCES Sat. January 17, 2009 - 8pm Sun. January 25, 2009- 4pm 2 hours 30 minutes, 1 intermission Sung in English with English Supertitles Location Long Beach Performing Arts Center 300 E. Ocean Boulevard The Cunning Little Vixen | The List The Cunning Little Vixen Website: Leos Janácek's The Cunning Little Vixen is performed by the RSAMD in collaboration with Scottish Opera. Janácek composed the opera in 1924, adapting the libretto from a daily comic that appeared in a Czech newspaper. The story, which has been compared to a Czech Midsummer Night's Dream, takes place in a forest, set among gypsies, poachers, woodsmen and the animals of the woodland.

Thu 27 January, Sat 29 January By Janácek 7.15pm In collaboration with Scottish Opera Sung in English Following last year's sell out success of War and Peace, the sixth annual collaboration between the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama will be Janácek's life-affirming The Cunning Little Vixen. A revival of the landmark Scottish Opera / Welsh National Opera co-production created by David Pountney, with designs by Maria Bjørnson, this is a profound work brimming with humour, which explores the relationship between man and nature, and the natural cycle of life from birth to death. The Orchestra of Scottish Opera and the Compay’s senior specialist artisans and technicians act as mentors for the RSAMD’s young musicians, costumes makers, set builders and stage technicians throughout the process of creating this new opera production. Conductor Timothy Dean The Cunning Little Vixen (TV Movie 2003) - IMDb IMDb 17 January 2017 8:05 PM, UTC NEWS There was an error trying to load your rating for this title. Some parts of this page won't work property. Please reload or try later. X Beta I'm Watching This!

Keep track of everything you watch; tell your friends. Error An adaptation of Leos Janacek's opera Prihody Lisky Bystrousky (1925), based on the novel Liska Bystrouska by Rudolf Tesnohlidek. It follows the life of Sharp-Ears, a fox who is captured by... See full summary » Director: Famous Directors: From Sundance to Prominence From Christopher Nolan to Quentin Tarantino and every Coen brother in between, many of today's most popular directors got their start at the Sundance Film Festival . Here's a list of some of the biggest names to go from Sundance to Hollywood prominence. a list of 262 titles created 13 Apr 2012 a list of 22 titles created 5 months ago Title: The Cunning Little Vixen (TV Movie 2003) 7.6/10 Want to share IMDb's rating on your own site? Use the HTML below. You must be a registered user to use the IMDb rating plugin.

Edit Storyline An adaptation of Leos Janacek's opera Prihody Lisky Bystrousky (1925), based on the novel Liska Bystrouska by Rudolf Tesnohlidek. It follows the life of Sharp-Ears, a fox who is captured by a forester as a cub and raised in his home prior to escaping back into the forest. Written by Misty De Meo The animated film of Janacek's opera Genres: 20 April 2003 (UK) See more » Also Known As: A ravasz rókácska See more » Company Credits Did You Know? Trivia Rudolf Tesnohlidek was approached to write the libretto for the adaptation of his novel, but refused; he agreed only to write lyrics for one song. See more » Frequently Asked Questions The Cunning Little Vixen was a wonderfully animated version of Leos Janacek's opera 25 February 2009 | by tavm (Baton Rouge, La.) – See all my reviews Just watched this animated featurette of Leos Janacek's opera as directed by Geoff Dunbar on YouTube.

It's mainly about a female fox who as a child gets taken from her mother to this man's house. Three months later as an adult, she escapes but not before killing all the chickens that her master and his wife had raised. Back in the forest, she meets a male fox and falls for him. After she gets pregnant, he agrees to marry her...I'll stop right there and say this was a pretty touching story of this lady fox and her adventures despite her brutal nature concerning other animals. Both the music and the voices chosen to verbalize the story are wonderfully played throughout. And Dunbar's animation provide some of the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen in an animated project. So with all that said, I highly recommend The Cunning Little Vixen. 4 of 5 people found this review helpful. Was this review helpful to you?

Yes The Cunning Little Vixen brings animal magic to Glyndebourne | Music | The Guardian Live opera from Glyndebourne The Cunning Little Vixen brings animal magic to Glyndebourne With its cast of bloodthirsty foxes, lazy hens and mischievous frogs, Janácek's opera is joy – and a powerful reminder of the force of nature The Guardian will be live streaming this production on 10 June. Details here Lucy Crowe as the Vixen, director Melly Still and Emma Bell, the Fox, in rehearsal for The Cunning Little Vixen at Glyndebourne. Photograph: Sarah Lee for the Guardian Thursday 17 May 2012 15.00 EDT First published on Thursday 17 May 2012 15.00 EDT Share on Messenger Close Soprano Lucy Crowe has foxes on the brain at the moment. "I saw a dead fox on the road the other day. I hope it's not an omen, " she says.

Since she is about to open the Glyndebourne festival singing the title role in Janácek's anthropomorphic masterpiece, The Cunning Little Vixen, I hope she's right too. But Crowe is not alone in her renardine obsessions. Soprano Emma Bell takes the part of the Fox, the Vixen's lover, and she adds: "I just got a text from a friend telling me they saw a fox run across a field and kill something. And there was that series about urban foxes on the telly . They're everywhere." If you are lucky enough to get to Glyndebourne, wherever you look, you find yourself in the middle of bucolic nature (with the possible exception of the gigantic, triffid-like wind turbine that Gus Christie has had installed on a hill above his family's opera house). There's the perfection of the rose garden, the tranquillity of the lily-clad boating lake and the perambulating white clouds of the sheep in the fields.

It seems like the perfect place for Janácek's operatic fantasy, which brings to life a cast of not just foxes, but dragonflies, frogs and an assortment of woodland critters, as well as a parallel world of glum, repressed, fox-murdering humans. Director Melly Still – whose first-ever opera three years ago was another Czech masterpiece, Dvorák's dark, watery fairytale Rusalka, also for Glyndebourne, even sees a connection between the South Downs and Janàcek's home town of Hukvaldy in Moravia, another landscape of hills and forests and dales. So much for the sentimental idyll. The reality of Janácek's opera, first heard in Brno in 1924, is an unsentimental realisation of the instinctive, amoral world of the cycles of nature and the curse of humanity's consciousness of its mortality, and it's all set to music that is by turns joyful, violent, uplifting and joltingly surprising. But on the surface, this is a story with singing animals, so it ought, surely, to be a fairytale or at least a fable?

Still is having none of it. "I don't see it remotely as a fairytale or even a folk tale. The animals are there to illuminate human behaviour. It's a story of human emotions, of sorrow and struggle and resistance to death, seen through the symbolism of the animals, and at the very end there's some kind of reconciliation to the idea of our own deaths." Janácek was inspired to create the opera from the drawings by Stanislav Lolek of a vixen's adventures in the forest that appeared in a local newspaper, and the stories that Rudolf Tesnohlidek made from them. But the changes that Janácek made from this charming source material reveal what he was really trying to do. The biggest difference is that Janácek has his Vixen die at the hands of the poacher in the final act. This death of the opera's heroine is over in seconds , a couple of gun-shots and a few scant bars of musical memorial. It's the opposite of emotional indulgence, and yet Crowe says that through Janácek music, "it's as if you can sense her soul going back into the spirit of the forest.

I think why it's so short is that it's saying: 'Her soul's gone now, but life goes on, nature goes on.' There's never any sentimentality in the music he writes for the Vixen, even in her love scene with the Fox." So who does Crowe think the Vixen is? Is she singing the part as a fox, as a human – or as something else? "Melly has asked us to put all our angst as a character into the big, bushy tails we have to wear, which is pretty challenging. The Vixen is very confident, but she's got a real vulnerability to her. It's not so much the music that's difficult with this part, it's the character. It's showing that naivety as well as her assertiveness." She cites the scene with the chickens in the first act, in which the Vixen gives a satirical political seminar, but then, because she can't stand the hens' reactionary laziness, kills them all and their preening cock. "She's quite a strong lady," Crowe says. "But when it comes to love, she's vulnerable.

That's why when she meets the Fox she's so overwhelmed – it's like her dreams have come true." That scene is the heart of the opera. It's a typically compressed Janácek love scene in which the characters meet, fall in love, consummate their union and start a family, all in the space of about 15 minutes. "Yes, it doesn't take very long for them to get down the hole," as Bell says, "and it's a pretty swift pregnancy!" There's some powerful symbolism going on in this scene too, related to Janácek's own life and his unrequited passion for a woman, Kamila Stösslová , who was 37 years his junior. Janácek, in his mid-60s when he composed The Cunning Little Vixen, could live out in his opera what was impossible in real life. As Still says, "Janácek fantasised that he was the Fox, and the Vixen his Kamila. They are like an ideal couple. Their love for each is instinctive and simple, unlike the Forester and his wife in the human world.

He obviously once loved her, but there's no love in their relationship now, and it's only at the end that he remembers her fondly. But the Fox and the Vixen remain happy, even though they have had seven children!" The opera's final brief scene reveals the Forester alone in the woods, remembering his life, his love of nature, and his wife. He sees a fox-cub, one of the Vixen's daughters, and a frog, who, in a child's voice, has the last words of the show, telling the Forester that his grandpa "told me about you!" It reduces Crowe to tears each time she hears it. "I was trying to work out why. It's Janácek questioning his own mortality, and it's really because – because we're all going to die." The circle of life , as Sir Tim Rice might have put it. "It's even more moving for me since I had a baby five months ago. That changes everything.

In my scenes with the fox cubs I just feel that I know how to react as a mother rather than pretending to be one." She tells us to look out for a little fox cub at the interval, as Glyndebourne has made a miniature cub-costume for her daughter, Elsie. But Crowe isn't sentimental about the natural world of instinct that her Vixen inhabits. "My dad told me once that he drove past a crow eating a baby rabbit that hadn't quite died, and I was like, 'You should have saved the rabbit!' But that's just life. It's brutal to us, but it's not in the animal kingdom." Instinctive, immediate, tender and brutal, too: Janácek's opera is a force of nature in its own right. Members of Guardian Extra can save £70 on tickets to see La Cenerentola at Glyndebourne on Wednesday 23 May and Friday 1 June. The ticket price includes a programme.

Question: Who composed the opera 'The Cunning Little Vixen'?
Answer: LEOS JANACEK